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WASHINGTON, D. C. 
1 ? ij 1 







CARRIE W. CLIFFORD 



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^^^m^^^^^^^i^^'^'^^^'^ 



RACE RHYMES 




S 



— BY 



CARRIE W. CLIFFORD 



WASHINGTON, D. C 
19 11 



PRINTED BY 

R. L. PENDLETON 

WASHINGTON 



T/]e bequest of 
^"^■anle/ Murray, 
^^'ashingtofi^ D. C. 
1925. 




DEDICATION. 



M°" 



TO MY MOTHER. 

OTHER, Mother, how I loved thee ! 
id I know thou lov'dst me well ; 
But the gentle Saviour called thee 
Home on high with saints to dwell. 



Mother, gentlest of all creatures. 
Patient, noble, just serene ; 

To me thou wert perfect, ideal ; 
Equal of thine, ne'er was seen. 

Thou art gone ! but not forgot by 
Her who loved thee here on earth, 

Mine the sorrow, but for thee of 
Heavenly joy there is no dearth. 

So I smile in resignation. 
And repress the bitter pain 

Since my great loss for a brief space, 
Is for thee, eternal gain. 



PREFACE. 



"^j^ . -^ N giving to the world this brochure, the author 
J L I \A makes no claim to unusual poetic excellence or 






literarv brilliance. She is seeking to call atten- 
=t tion to a condition which she, at least, considers 
serious. Knowing that this may often be done more impres- 
sively through rhyme than in an elegant prose dissertation, 
she has taken this method of accomplishing the end sought. 

Each poem has been called forth by some significant event 
or condition in the history of the Negro in America. The 
theme of the group here presented — the uplift of humanity — 
is the loftiest that can animate the heart and pen of man; the 
treatment, she trusts, is not wholly unworthy. Remembering 
the good that has been accomplished by such familiar poems 
as "The Prisoner for Debt," "The vSong of the Shirt," 
and similar ones, she sends these lines forth with the prayer that 
they may change some evil heart, right some wrong and raise 
some arm strong to deliver. 

c. w. c. 




Contents 



B 



Dedication : To My Mother 5 

Preface 7 

America • . . . . 9 

Reply to Tfaos. Dixoti 11 

Atlanta's Sliame ....•• 12 

The Jim Crow Car 13 

Shall We Fight the Jim Crow Car? 15 

To Paul Laurence Dunbar 16 

Lines to Garrison 17 

Foraker and the Tw^enty-Fifth 19 

The Colored Graduate 21 

Duty's Call 22 

Marching to Conquest 23 

My Baby 24 

Character or Color — Which? 25 

The Dreamer 26 

We'll Die for Liberty . . . . ' 28 



^^t^^^^^^p^^^^^^w^^^^^^ 



RACE RHYMES 



AMERICA. 



America is not another name for opportunity 
To all her sons ! Nay, bid me not be dumb — 
I will be heard. Christians, I come 
To plead with burning eloquence of truth 
A brother's cause ; ay, to demand, forsooth, 
The manhood rights of which he is denied ; 
Too long your pretense have your acts belied. 

What has he done to merit your fierce hate ? 
I charge you, speak the truth ; for know, his fate 
Irrevocably is bound up with yours, 
For good or ill. as long as time endures. 
Torn from his native home by ruthless hands, 
For centuries he tilled your fruitful lands, 
In shameful, base, degrading slavery ; 
Your humble, patient, loyal vassal, he — 
Piling your coffers high with magic gold, 
Himself, the while, like cattle bought and sold. 

When devastating war stalked through the land, 
And dangers threatened you on every hand, 
These sons whose color you cannot forgive. 
Did freely shed their blood that you might live 
A nation, strong and great. And will you then 
Continue to debase, degrade, contemn 
Your loyal children, while with smiling face 
You raise disloyal ones to power and place? 

Is race or color crime, that for this cause 
You draft against the Negro unjust laws? 
Is race or color sin that he should be 
For these things treated so outrageously ? 
O, boastful, white American, beware ! 
It is the handiwork of God you dare 
Thus to despise and He will you repay 



With generous measure overflowing, yea, 

For all the good which in his life you've wrought. 

For helpful deed, or kindly, loving thought — 

For every act of cruelty you've done, 

For every groan which you have from him wrung. 

For every infamy by him endured, 

He will you all repay, be thou assured ! 

Not here alone ere time shall cease to be, 

But likewise There, through all eternity. 




A REPLY TO THOS. DIXON. 



We are rising, we are coming ! 

See, the foeman's face grows pale ; 
He to check our progress onward 

Spreads abroad this scandalous tale 

"Black men are not white men's equal 
All unworthy's the black race ; 
Savage, soulless, scarcely human. 
Doomed fore ver to servile place." 

Shall such foul aspersions daunt us. 
Will we weaken in our hght? 
Never! Fighting, we will die for 
Justice, God and human right. 

We hurl back the defamation. 
Confound theory with fact. 

Prove by thought, by word, by deed. 
The falseness of the vile attack. 

There is earnest work before us, 
There are giants to o'ercome. 

Satan's angels to be vanquished. 
Grievous wrong to be undone. 

So we press undaunted forward. 
So we plunge into the fray. 

Rouse the timid lagging rearward. 
Point them to the breaking day ! 

W^ill success perch on our banner. 

Which we struggle to hold high? 
F^-^m the valiant hosts who follow 
Comes a ringing, firm, "Ay, ay !" 



SK 



ATLANTA'S SHAME. 



In queenly state she sits at the gateway of the South — 
And hfts with conscious pride her stately head : 

Fair Atlanta feels her worth, and her children are elate, 
As thro' her streets they go with happy tread. 

She has sons of many kinds, she has sons of many hues, 
And she says she cares for all, but this we know, 

Tho' she exacts of each alike service, revenue, respect, 
The blacks get of her favor but scant show ! 

Yet the harder do they strive her good will and grace 
to win. 
Keeping step with progress — forward without pause ! 
Gaining knowledge, getting wealth, doing all things 
duly meet. 
Hoping thus to gain Atlanta's prized applause. 

But alas ! 'tis all in vain, for she hates with bitter hate 
These poor blacks who aye remind her of her shames ; 
Of her greed for wealth and power, of her base con- 
suming lust : 
Noble striving but the more her wrath inflames. 

Then to hide from honest eyes her blood-guiltiness and 
sin, 
She most cunningly contrives a wicked plot — 
Subtly spoken a base word, then this cry against the 
blacks 
Cleaves the night ! "Revenge ! lynch, slaughter and 
spare not !" 

Three awful nights she reveled in a carnival of crime, 
Three days or e'er the tension was relieved ; 

When her thirst for blood was sated, the whole nation 
stood aghast. 
Her cry of "Rape," no more the world deceived ! 



Lamentations, bitter sobs, heart-wrung groans the soft 
winds bore 
Thro' the streets where lay the victims of her rage ; 
Helpless age and guiltless youth, innocence and trust- 
ing truth — 
It had taken all, her fury to assuage. 

Dread Atlanta nevermore can the crimson stain erase, 
Nor the foul blot wipe from off fair history's scroll ; 

This fell deed shall e'er arise, ghost-like from the mists 
of time 
To confront and terrify her guilty soul ! 



THE JIM CROW CAR. 



Of all things iniquitous that evil could devise, 
A thing that men of honor very justly must despise, 
An institution infamous and more degrading far 
Than aught I know of, fellow-men, this is the Jim Crow 
car. 

The good, the bad, the criminal are herded there 
together ; 

Just so the skin is dark, no white would deign to ques- 
tion whether 

The heart beneath was pure as gold or was with guilt 
allied ; 

Not worth but color designates the place where one 
must ride. 

He may have built, of modern times, the greatest insti- 
tution 
For training hands ; or may be of the vilest destitution 
A perfect sample ; but tho' he be artist, brute or sage. 
It nothing counts, he goes if black into the "Jim Crow" 
cage. 



He may have won prized scholarships from greatest 

schools of learning. 
The fire of genius in his soul with mighty brilliance 

burning ; 
His culture and attainments may indeed be on a par 
With earth's greatest souls, but he, if black, must seek 

the "Jim Crow" car. 

And shall the strong be e'er deceived with thought that 

might makes right? 
And shall the weak forever yield God-given right to 

might ? 
Nay ! think not, puny man, to alter one of God's fixed 

laws. 
For sure as darkness follows light, effect must follow 

cause. 
And sure as nations disregard God's changeless plan 

divine 
To justly deal, show mercy, love and service intertwine. 
So surely will his judgment fall with vengeance swift 

and true. 
On all who seek to thwart His will, His mandates to 

eschew. 

And in His gracious message left to comfort breaking 
hearts 

He promises to rescue all from Satan's fiery darts 

Who keep His law : there, too, we find the blest assur- 
ance given 

There'll be no caste distinctions in the glorious realm of 
heaven. 



Nor bond nor free, nor Greek nor Jew, Barbarian. 

Scythian there ; 
For all are one in Christ, all children of His loving care ; 
And when at last His little ones have crossed life's 

moaning bar, 
They'll ride in golden chariots, not in a "Jim Ci 

car. 



-row 



^''^?^='*^^3^i^^5C4l^i^^^^S[t>^s>^3^ 



SHALL WE FIGHT THE JIM CROW CAR? 



Comes the question, loud, insistent. 
Borne upon the winds afar, 
In the ears of black men ringing — 
'Shall we fight the Jim Crow car?" 

Mounts the hot blood to the forehead, 
Angry passions leap to life 
At remembered wrongs committed 
'Gainst a mother, sister, wife. 

And the milk of human kindness 
In the proud heart turns to gall : 
Is not every hand against them, 
Every ear deaf to their call ? 

Disregarded all entreaties, 
Stern protests unheeded are ; 
Impotent words or achievements, 
To remove the color-bar. 

Shall such base, unworthy treatment 
Be by brave men tamely borne 
And the title "Non-resistant," 
As a badge of honor worn? 

No ; by heaven, they swear it, swear it ! 
List ye, farthest glitt'ring star. 
Ten thousand black men shout in chorus, 
'*We will fight the Jim Crow car." 




?a^^s[4K^^»^2c^s^^f^^a:a^«^^ 



THE SINGER AND THE SONG. 



To Paul Laurence Dunbar. 



For oh, his song was so sad to hear ! 
He sang of the milHons who Hve in fear ; 
Of those who in anguish and patient pain. 
Struggle for freedom but struggle in vain. 

For oh, his sorg was so sweet to hear; 

It fell like balm on the listening ear ; 

It told of bright skies, fragrant flowers, green trees, 

And of God the Almighty — Creator of these. 

For oh, his song was so blithe and gay, 

"I will not hold my just anger alway ; 

Tremble ye wicked ones !" Assurance blest. 

And hope brought the song to these children oppressed. 

For oh, his song was sublime, sublime ! 

A glorious burst of music divine ; 

"He whose endurance shall last to the ^wA. 

On him shall heaven's choicest blessings descend." 

So ever he sang as he journeyed along. 
Cheering the faint heart, rebuking the wrong. 
Preaching to all the sweet gospel of love ; 
Teaching of Jesus who reigneth above. 
But the singer grew weary and sank down to rest, 
Where he sleeps for a space, folded close to the breast 
Of old Mother Earth, the song stilled for a day. 
But our hearts to its music will vibrate alway. 



LINES TO GARRISON. 

{Read at His Cefitenary Celebration, Cleveland, Oho.) 
Read at his centennary celebration, Cleveland, Ohio. 
Ah, dark and grim and direful were those days, 
For cursed was our fair land, and torn with cries 
And groanings loud and terrible, of man 
Oppressed and tortured by his brother man. 
The poor, black, naked slave was worked and whipped 
And scourged ; held, bought and sold as chattel 
/t the behest of him who styled himself his owner; 
His body, mind, yea e'en his very soul 
Was h-M by cruel masters to belong to them ! 
"How lorg,' O Lord, how long?" wailed these despair- 
ing ones. 
As Slavery's cruel bonds grew stronger day by day, 
More loathsome and unbearable ! 
While thus they agonized in prayer, beseeching 
God, the father, for relief from this 
Distressed and pitiful estate, lo ! 
Suddenly from out the mists of chaos 
And confusion, rose a voice commanding. 
Clear, loud-crying, 'T am in earnest — 
I will not equivocate — I will not 
Retreat a single inch — And I will be heard !" 
Tt was the voice of one who hated slavery 
As he hated nothing else on earth ; 
It was the voice of one, who advocated 
Freedom for all men. 
It was the voice of Garrison, the brave, 
Which sounded clear above the tumult, saying — • 
"Tyrants as all hist'ry shows, must be destroyed !" 
Alarm fell on the sleek, complacent master. 
The quiet advocate of abolition likewise started ! 
DareH he thus boldly agitate for right. 
Dared he thns forcibly denounce the wrong? 

A nation listened breathless ! 
Again the voice came ringing, firm, emphatic — ■ 
"Are we enough to make a revolution? 
No, but we are enough, one to begin ; 
And o'^ce begun it cannot be turned back ! 
I am for revolution, were I utterly alone ; 
T am there because I must be there; 
I cannct choose but obey the voice of God !'' 



It was enough ! A Christian nation could not, 
Would not listen to the voice of God. 
The South cried for his blood ; 
In Boston he was mobbed ; dragged thro' the streets 
A rope around his neck, because, forsooth. 
He dared to speak for Freedom, Justice, Right. 
But brute force cannot thrust Truth down. 
Nor mobs with ropes o'ercome it. 

Tho' cast in prison 
Mocked at, jeered, yet Garrison, the great. 
Ceased not to plead the cause of the despised slave. 
He aroused a nation from its lethargy ! 
The North viewed with dismay, the horrid beast 
The haughty South was nursing in its breast ; 
Should this foul thing besmirch Columbia's name ? 
Should free America, home of the brave. 
Become a noissome prison house for slaves ! 
Not if the trenchant pen or mighty voice 
Of Garrison, the noble, could prevent. 
By day, by night, in season, out — he passionately 
Pleaded for his enslaved countrymen. 
So bold a leader could not long lack friends. 
Soon honest men became h's staunch allies. 
The few, became a host ! The little stream 
Became a flood, resistless, strong, compelling! 

The climax came 
In a supreme outburst of blood and carnage. 
The strife was fierce, the struggle desperate; 
But. glory be to God, the chains were snappe^l. 
The slaves were freed, and Garrison, immortalized ! 

Peace to thy ashes. Honored Dead ! 
We come today, thy grave to strew with flowers 
Of loving words, of honest praise ; we come 
Ten million of thy countrymen 
Thy bier to consecrate with fragrant incense 
Welling up from grateful hearts ! 



^^s^a^^^^S'^cl^^s^s^SE^^^^^^s^ 



FORAKER AND THE TWENTY-FIFTH. 



Who helped Columbia win the day 
At San Juan Hill and El Carney, 
When brave men faltered in dismay ? 
The Twenty-fifth. 

Who welcomed then, their timely aid, 
Since they to charge were not afraid, 
But at the foe like demons made? 

Colonel Roosevelt. 

And when the glorious deed was done. 
The battles fought and victory won, 
Who honor gave to her dark sons? 
The Nation. 

Who was it played the scurvy trick, 
\Mio gave the thrust with his Big Stick 
That turned br'ght day to darkness thick? 
Our President. 

Where is the place was struck the blow. 
The deadly, fatal, unjust blow 
Our soldier boys' proud heads bowed low ? 
At Brownsville. 

Discharged without honor or proof of guilt 
Was this the goal toward which they'd built. 
The end for which their blood they'd spilt ? 
O, mighty God! 

Charged with honor up San Juan Hill : 
Discharged without honor at dread Brownsville, 
Achieved so grandly — rewarded so ill. 
These patriots. 



And (lid no voice for justice cry, 
None dare assail the powers high 
That did the grievous wrong — none ? Ay, 
Brave Fo raker. 

Alone he hraved the mighty wrath. 
Alone he dared the lightning s path ; 
Ila ! braver champion no man hath 
Than Foraker. 

Defied alone the soldiers' foes. 
TTimself bared to the cowards' blows ; 
The price so nobly paid God knows — 
And Foraker. 

He suffered in a righteous cause. 
Fought to uphold his country's laws. 
And won just men's thund'rous applause. 
Great Foraker. 

AVherever black men's hearts beat high 

For justice, honor, liberty. 

Nor name nor deed shall ever die. 

Of gallant J. B. Foraker 

And if a race's steadfast love 
A race's loyalty can prove. 
No other name is loved above 

The name of Foraker. 




ALL HAIL! YE COLORED GRADUATES. 



Tune — "All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name." 
All hail, ye colored graduates 

From college and from school ; 
May high ideals each life inspire 

And sen ice be its rule! 

Let ev'ry citizen and friend 

In our loved country wide, 
Join in our hearty song of praise 

And share our righteous pride. 

We bid you go as champions brave 

To fight for God and right ; 
And bring to those who are oppressed 

Great Freedom's glorious light. 

'^>)u'll find the fields for harvest ripe, 

P)Ut laborers very few; 
'J'hen forth with willing hearts and strong 

The evil to subdue. 

Discouragements will oft confront 

And seek to vanquish you ; 
P.ut know that naught on earth can thwart 

The man who WILLS to do. 

Then forward, onward, upward go! 

And as you boldly press 
Your way to life's exalted heights 

The Lord of Hosts will bless. 




DUTY'S CALL. 



Come, all ye women, come ! 
Help 'till the work is done. 
Help to uplift! 

We must sin's blight remove, 
By deeds of kindness prove 
The wondrous power of love. 
God's greatest gift. 

We must remove the ban 
Placed on our fellow-man, 
Thro' Satan's power ; 
Let us as one unite. 
Darkness and wrorg to fight. 
Then will the glorious light 
lireak in God's hour. 

'Tis now, we must begin ; 
If we our cause would win; 
The foe is strong; 
But we can make him quake. 
His forces swerve and break 
When we old earth shall shake 
With victory's song. 




MARCHING TO CONQUEST. 



We are battling for the right with purpose strong and 

true; 
'Tis a mighty struggle, but we've pledged to dare 

and do ; 
Pledged to conquer evil and we'll see the conflict thro' 
Marching and marching to conquest. 

All the noble things of life we'll teach our girls and 

boys, 
Warn them of its pitfalls and reveal its purest joys, 
Counsel, guide and keep them from the evil that 

destroys 

As we go marching to conquest. 

Loving confidence and trust must mark our intercourse, 
Harmony and unity will our success enforce ; 
Seeking guidance from the Lord of good, the boundless 
source, 

As we go marching to conquest. 

Come and join our anthem then and raise a mighty 

shout, 
Sing it with such fervor as will put our foes to rout, 
Sing it with conviction strong, dispelling every doubt, 
As we go marching to conquest. 

Women, when our work is o'er and we to rest have 

gone. 
May our efforts doubled, trebled, still go sweeping on. 
And the voices of millions swell the volume of our 

song. 

As they go marching to conquest. 

Chorus : 

Hurrah, hurrah, we'll shout the jubilee; 
Hurrah, hurrah, we'll set the captives free, 
Ignorance, distrust and hate at our approach shall flee. 
Marching and marching to conquest. 



i^f^^^^^^^^m^^pm^^^^^^t^^^^^m^ 



MY BABY. 

{On /heading ''Souls of Black Folk.'') 

Who loves my baby ? Ah, who loves him not, 
My beautiful baby, who lies fast asleep ; 

His dimpled brown limbs softly press his white cot. 
And angels, God's messengers, guard o'er him keep. 

Who hates my baby? Ah. merciful God, 

Thy children — his brothers whose faces are white ; 

"Black skin is a crime : pass thou under the rod," 

They cry ! "This is our country, and might makes us 
right." 

IMy baby ! immortal soul, dark tho' he be ; 

Where shall I take him for safety and peace, 
Where in this land of the brave and the free 

Shall baby and I find of terror surcease ? 

Justice, I ask for my baby is all, 

And freedom to grow and expand all his powers ; 
Then right give the verdict — to stand or to fall — 

While Hatred of Race before Righteousness cowers. 

Then, if my dark baby, unworthy be found, 
^ Incompetent, lustful, unfaithful or base, 
I'll abide by the verdict and utter no sound 
Agree that beneath is my dark baby's place. 

But glory to God ! who my dark baby gave 
A mind, soul and being like unto his own 

And sent his dear son my brown baby to save 

From the seeds of corruption the Tempter has sown. 

Right mv baby will place side by side with your child. 

And Right will erase from your heart that fierce hate ; 
Will you bide by the verdict of Right? Will the wild 

And ignoble prejudice die e'er too late? 

For be thou assured, God's bright angels will guard 
Aly baby so brown, to the heavenly portal. 

White soul, not white face, shall there gain its reward. 
For Right keeps the gate to the City Immortal. 



CHARACTER OR COLOR— WHICH? 



What is blood, or what is birth? 
What is black or white? 
Or small or great, or rich or poor? 
Just so the man's all right? 

O, vain and haughty white man, why 
Of ancestry prate so? 
Can you in tracing your descent. 
Farther than Adam go? 

W^hy boast of culture ? Well you know. 
Ere to your present state 
Of progress and renown you'd come, 
(With statesmen wise and great — ) 

The blacks had splendidly achieved 
Long centuries before ; 
Their monuments, unrivaled still, 
Adorn old Afric's shore. 

No adventitious circumstance 
Can fix a people's station. 
Integrity's the thing that counts 
In any man or nation. 

Then modestly let's run our course — 
All hist'ry tells the story : 
No race but has its page of shame. 
None lacks its page of glory. 

So what is blood or what is birth? 
What is black or white? 
Or great or small, or rich or poor. 
Just so the man's all right? 



THE DREAMER. 



"The Dreamers are the Saviours of the World." 
So ran the legend writ in letters bold, 
Upon a page whereon in idle hour, 
]\[y listless gaze did chance to rest. Straightway 
A magic thrill thro' all my being ran 
And all my powers of mind became at once 
Instinct with leaping life. Again I gazed — 
Again with eagerness the page I scanned : 
Unchanged, the words still boldly graven there 
*The Dreamers are the Saviours of the World." 
"And can it be," I thought, this ancient page 
Doth to my own sweet wild imaginings 
Lend confirmation strong. Would this bright world 
Be but a barren waste, a wilderness ; 
Its human creatures scarcely one remove 
From birds and beasts, and creeping, crawling things 
Instead of beirgs, as great God declared 
But little lower than the angels formed. 
Did not the Dreamer — Sculptor, Poet, Sage — 
Keep ever brightly burning life's ideals 
As beacon lights to comfort, cheer and guide 
The weary travelers o'er life's rugged way? 
Still motionless I sat, still pondered o'er 
The words this ancient tome did speak, dramatic 
And profound, as 'twere an oracle. 
The book, unheeded, fell from my lax hand. 
And back with b'ghtning speed my fancy flew 
O'er space and time immense and limitless. 
Before mine eyes a panorama spread, 
Showirg the great of earth since time began. 
I saw bold Caesar and Napoleon, 
St. Francis of Assisi, Socrates, 
Shakespeare and Froebel. Michael Angelo 
And all the sacred host of mighty dead. 
Before me moved the pageant of the years 
In ghostly pomp and grandeur. I saw again 
The youthful Joseph, Dreamer of Israel ; 
Despised of his brethren, cursed and roughly used 
Because he dreamed the truth they could not grasp. 
And then, I saw the dream fulfilled, while they, 



26 



The former scoffers, bent the suppliant knee, 

In silent tribute to the Dreamer's power. 

When busy Martha cumbered with much care 

Complained that Mary at the Saviour's feet 

In dreamland sat, the gentle Christ replied, 

"Mary hath chosen the better part." I saw 

Columbus, bold and unafraid, set out 

Upon an unknown sea his dream to find 

Come true. Douglass, the slave — the martyr, Brown, 

And Harriet Beecher Stowe, the prophetess, 

Each dreaming of a country free from rule 

(3f grasping greed and heartless tyranny. 

In patience wrought, to bring to pass the dream 

Which men derided — called impossible : 

When lo ! while yet they mocked, it came to pass ! 

"Dreamers," I thought, whose dreams have changed 

the world ! 
So must it ever be. The Dreamer comes 
In every age unvalued and condemned. 
The Doers trooping come, with boisterous haste 
Millions to one lone Dreamer: failing him, 
Xo single revolution of the wheel 
Of progress marks advance, for he alone 
Can move the world and bring a revelation. 
The true Idealist does not spend his time 
In vain and idle musings ; nor does he flee 
Unfavorable conditions, as a slave. 
For quarters more secure and genial : 
I)Ut rather, he is one who patiently 
And often painfully his life doth shape 
Harmonious with an inward purpose true, 
Striving against cold materialism to make 
The glorious vision in whose light he lives 
Shine strong and bright before the eyes of men 
Whose sight less clear discerning is than his. 
'Tis true that dreams are but the evidence 
Of things unseen — realities which all 
Shall one day see and know. Dream lofty dreams. 
And as you dream, O, Friend, shall you become 
W^hat you desire, you shall obtain ; and what 
You shall aspire unto you shall achieve. 
Your vision is the promise of what you 
Shall one day be ; your ideal but the prophecy 
Of what you shall at last unveil ! 
Then cherish well your vision, cherish fondly 
Your ideals. O great and noble Dreamer ! 



WE'LL DIE FOR LIBERTY. 



We are children of oppression who are struggUng to 

be free 
From injustice, and the galling yoke of color-tyranny; 
Our small band is facing bravely a relentless enemy. 
But we go fighting on. 

For liberty we'll bare our breasts, and this our cry 

shall be : 
''Equal rights and equal justice, equal opportunity," 
Undaunted we will face the foe and fight right valiantly 
To victory marching on. 

In the name of Christ our Lord who suffered death 

upon the tree, 
And of the Constitution, our proud country's guarantee, 
And of the flag which over all should wave protectingly 
We'll strike for liberty. 

Thus strongly fortified in right we'll strive triumph- 
antly. 

Till the glorious light of Freedom's torch shall flame 
from sea to sea ; 

And all the children of our land shall dwell in amity, 
As Truth goes marching on. 

Then list, ye Sons of Morning, to a weaker brother's 
plea, 

And barken. Hosts of Darkness, to our Heaven- 
inspired decree : 

As He died to make men holy we will die for liberty, 
Thou, God, the issue keep. 

Chorus : Glory, glory, hallelujah ! 1 1 
We'll die for liberty ! 

1 1 Repeat three times. 



/ 



/ 



